


Nightmares

by mattiebluebird (ScarlettBond)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anyway Roman and Virgil fight nightmares together and you can fight me on that, I am a merciful deity, This could've been a lot more angsty but it wasn't, Virgil uses his Tempest Voice(tm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 13:53:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettBond/pseuds/mattiebluebird
Summary: Virgil used to fight the nightmares alone. He doesn't anymore.





	Nightmares

Virgil always hated nightmares.

Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't the _ cause _ of Thomas's anxiety -he was the _ embodiment _ of it. They were two completely different things. If he were the cause, he'd never feel anxious. But he wasn't.

So he did.

So of course he hated nightmares.

Unfortunately, Princey wasn't exactly seeing the logic.

"GET BACK, ANXIETY!" The (utterly stupid, really an idiot, huge dolt of a-) prince screamed, slashing his sword so close to Virgil's abdomen he might've been disemboweled if not for his quick reflexes.

Virgil flinched back until his back hit solid rock, shoulders hunched forward and left arm laying across his stomach, teeth bared, nails that had moments ago been bitten to the quick now long enough -and sharp enough- to cut a bitch.

That was the power of the Imagination. In your own realm you could control practically everything: your looks, the environment, the people. This was Virgil's realm. He could control it if he tried. If he _ focused_.

But the fanciful side wasn't exactly letting him.

"**Princey, god's sake** ," Virgil hissed, voice unintentionally distorted. That happened when he was scared or annoyed. He couldn't control it if he tried, but Princey didn't know that. _ Couldn't _ know that. He never spoke to Virgil long enough to find out.

"**Shut up and let me focus so I can get this done**." Virgil raised his arms and sent the prince stumbling back a step.

Virgil had tried and failed, tried and failed, tried and failed _ so many times _ to explain himself to the others; his purpose, his past, anything and everything -even his name once, a long, long time ago. They never listened.

So he stopped trying.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on his past. He needed to get Princey _ out _ of here as soon as possible.

They were at the place where Anxiety's realm -a towering mountain (volcano, actually, though it'd been dormant since Thomas was ten), surrounded on three sides by a menacing forest- and Sleep's realm -a vast, limitless plain of multicolored weeds taller than Virgil was, animals moving around in the grass- met. The ground was covered in shards of obsidian as sharp as glass, reflecting a dark gray sky. Lightning cracked and thunder rumbled, but no rain fell.

Virgil, unlike Princey, had night vision, but even _ he _ couldn't see the shadows slithering around in the forest, between the twisted trunks and dead leaves that still clung stubbornly to the branches, until a bolt of lightning lit the scene.

The shadows were nightmares -or at least a visual representation of them. Each curling tendril was packed full of fears and worries. The Dragon Witch was out there right now, no doubt attempting to calm them down. Though Virgil could control them (he was, after all, their one true master, as cringey as it sounded) his presence tended to rile them.

Usually the two of them could handle the nightmares on their own, help them cross the border and become dreams or send them back into the forest to wait without letting Princey know what were happening, but when the fanciful side got wind of it -well, chaos ensued.

The shadows were getting closer. God, they were barely six feet away from Princey's feet. If they got a hold of him ...if just a _ single _ one touched him, brushed against his ankle ...Virgil's blood ran cold as he remembered the vivid illusions of Thomas dead, Thomas hurt, his friends suffering, his career going down the drain, his life taking bad turn after bad turn until he died old and alone.

Princey would be destroyed.

"** _Get BACK!_ **" He screamed, voice filled with all the raw power of a raging tempest.

He meant it for the shadows nipping at Princey's heel, but the other side didn't seem to take it that way, as he lunged forward, sword slashing.

Virgil was the embodiment of the fight-or-flight reflex, so of course he ducked in time for Princey's sword to spark against the obsidian behind him. He lunged upward, tackling the fanciful side around the middle and knocking him to the ground.

First thing first: He sent the sword flying far, _ far _ away. This wasn't his first rodeo; by now he knew how Princey fought. As the dashing hero of the group (even now he mentally rolled his eyes at the thought) he'd trained himself at hand-to-hand combat, but Virgil would rather have bruises and a broken nose than stab wounds and a missing finger.

They fought for what seemed like only a few minutes. Realistically speaking, Virgil should've been able to defeat the other side in seconds -again, he was the literal _ embodiment _ of fear, fight-or-flight, do-or-die, the primal terror and adrenaline surge that's gotten mankind through countless battles and lion attacks, that's helped mothers lift cars and shipwrecked passengers find their way back to land. He was _ Anxiety_, for god's sake.

But he had one thing drawing him back: He really, _ really _ didn't want to hurt Princey.

Princey didn't seem to have the same problem. For the embodiment of honor, he fought dirtier than a starving street urchin.

There was a ** _CRACK_ ** , much louder than any of the others had been, much longer, much brighter, and much, _ much _ closer. Virgil jumped, immediately checking to see if Princey'd been struck -stupid, stupid, _ why did he do that? _

"Come on gurls, party's over!" A familiar voice yelled.

There was a gush of wind so powerful it knocked Virgil to the side, followed by another, more insistent gust that sent him back a few more feet.

He looked up to see Remy, Starbucks absent for once, standing on a rock slightly above them, looking down with a disappointed expression behind his sunglasses.

"I thought you had this _ under control_?" Remy asked with a pointed stare at Virgil.

The anxious side bared his teeth as he scrambled to his feet, hissing when the rock shards dug into his palms. "I _ did_, until this _ idiot _ showed up," he growled, throwing a glare at the prince.

Princey leapt to his feet with an offended noise. "I was merely stopping this _ villain_," he gestured wildly at Virgil, who rolled his eyes with a sneer, "From giving Thomas nightmares and keeping him from his beauty sleep!"

Virgil laughed bitterly. "The only thing preventing Thomas from his beauty sleep is _ you _," he snapped.

"HOW DARE-"

Another ** _CRACK_ ** . "Gurl's, puh- _ leaze_! You're disrupting Thomas's sleep cycle. He may not be having nightmares -_yet_\- but he can sense something is wrong. Princey, out!"

"But I-"

** _CRACK_ ** . "I said _ out_! _ I _ will handle the nightmares!"

Princey sunk out reluctantly, with a defeated look towards Remy and a scorching glare toward Virgil.

"Thanks, man," Virgil said, brushing off his clothes. He couldn't heal his injuries now -he'd need the energy to dispel the nightmares.

"Don't mention it, hun. Just keep those creepers out of my realm, 'kay?"

"Okay."

And with another ** _CRACK_ **, Remy was gone. 

Virgil sighed and turned toward the nightmares. They were even closer to the border now, barely six yards away.

Virgil raised his arms, then swept his right arm forward in a "come here" gesture. "**You** ," he commanded. His tempest voice was involuntary, but he was glad it showed up when he needed it most. Even if it also showed up when he _ didn't _ need it most.

The nightmare crept toward him -not afraid, not quite, but cautious. Virgil stepped forward to meet it, arms open like a mother greeting her child.

Virgil gathered the darkness in his arms, whispering to it, manipulating it, fighting through the images and emotions that flooded his mind at the contact. This nightmare would've been about Thomas becoming a murderer and killing his friends in their sleep. Virgil shuddered, though he'd seen worse. _ Far _ worse.

The darkness shifted and flowed like a liquid until a beautiful ebony mare with silver undertones and glowing violet eyes stood before him. She was taller than Virgil by at least two feet, beautiful and majestic in a dark, terrifying way.

He nudged her gently, urging her to cross over the border, where she turned golden and morphed into a dream before disappearing into the grass.

Virgil repeated the process again and again, choosing ten mares -nightmares only in their shadow form, mares in their horse form, dreams in their golden form to send over. The rest he sent to the Dragon Witch to wait.

When it was over, he fell to his knees. He was _ exhausted_. Nightmares were wild and free-spirited; they didn't _ want _ to be tamed any more than a tiger would. Wrangling them down into a more refined form was difficult and taxing.

He took a deep breath as he sank out to his room. His injuries would have to wait until he'd recharged.

Virgil's alarm sounded as Thomas woke up.

Apparently, recharging would have to wait too.

* * *

_ Years later _

It was a quiet morning.

Or at least, it _ was _ a quiet morning until the seven foot tall mare made of shifting darkness and with glowing violet eyes crashed through the door to the Imagination.

Roman jumped to his feet immediately, sword in hand, breakfast abandoned. Patton backed into the kitchen counter and pressed a hand to his heart. Logan stood up and slowly backed away.

Virgil ran out of the door next. His hair was mussed, his eyes wide, eyeshadow messier than usual, breathing erratic. It seemed like he'd been chasing the mare for a while now. He leaped in front of her and held out his arms like he was trying to hold back a storm.

"**Stay back!**" He shouted, voice shaking the entire mindscape with its intensity.

The mare backed up a step, skittish, huffing and neighing. Virgil turned his head to the other sides and spoke with less intensity, though his voice was just as distorted as before. "**I'm sorry, Tilly was keeping an eye on them and I forgot to check on them so they got restless and started to fall apart, I didn't get there in time, I'm sorry, it won't happen ag-**"

The sides all spoke at once, cutting off his panicked tirade.

"What?" Patton asked.

"What's happening? Why is there a horse in the mindscape?" Logan said, seeming slightly shaken by the beast sudden appearance.

"Who's Tilly?" Roman asked, sword still hovering.

Virgil let out a frustrated growl -no, really, a _ growl- _ and turned back to the mare. The horse skittered backward until it flowed -or dissolved, or _ something_, they didn't know how else to describe the way the horse's figure shifted to accommodate the doorway- back into the Imagination.

"**Go back to Tilly!**" He screamed, and the door slammed shut.

Virgil turned to the other sides, seeming suddenly nervous. "Uh ...sorry about that," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

When it seemed no one else would speak, Logan stepped up to the plate, pushing his glasses up his nose as he cleared his throat. "Virgil, I think I speak for all of us when I say ...what just happened?"

Virgil scowled. "That was a mare. Sorta like a nightmare, I guess, but more tamed. Me and Tilly take care of them, help them over the border and stuff."

"What _ border_? _ What are you talking about?_" Roman asked, voice edging into hysteria.

Virgil's scowl deepened as he glared at Roman. "The border between my realm and Remy's. When the nightmares are tamed, they turn to dreams once they cross over. I tame them, Tilly takes care of them."

"Virge, sweetie, who's Tilly?" Patton asked. He no longer looked afraid, just confused, Lost Bambi Eyes(tm) gazing at Virgil like he knew all the secrets to the world.

Virgil winced. He'd never been able to resist Patton's Lost Bambi Eyes(tm). "Tilly is, uh ...the Dragon Witch?"

Roman's expression was caught between confusion, betrayal, and accusation. "You're _ working _ with the _ Dragon Witch_?" He asked incredulously.

Virgil scowl turned disapproving. "Her name's Tilly, she takes care of the animals in the Imagination -including your precious dragons, by the way- and keeps an eye on things for me. Don't look so surprised."

Roman blinked and finally lowered his sword. "So you ..._ don't _ cause nightmares?" He asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes, finally sensing it was safe to walk into the kitchen. "Of course not, dumbass," he snapped as he opened the fridge, "I _ can _ cause nightmares, but I'm also the one who prevents them from happening, tames them, chooses which should become dreams, which need to stay in my realm, and when they become too powerful, I'm the one who banishes them to the subconscious." He slammed the fridge door short, a gallon of milk in his hand. He set it on the counter and went to grab the cereal.

"And it's not exactly _ easy _ when you're always trying to stop me," he added bitterly after he'd fixed his bowl.

And with that, he sank out.

~

The moment Virgil appeared in his realm, he knew it would be a long night.

Five of the mares had gotten loose and grown untamed, then joined into one huge shadow that was now frighteningly close to the border.

Virgil sighed as he stretched, feeling his senses sharpen as well as his nails and teeth. All part of his natural fight-or-flight response preparing him for battle.

"So, what are we up against?" Roman asked, suddenly right next to him. He was dressed in his usual prince's outfit, though Virgil knew from experience that it was enchanted to be hard as diamond.

Virgil jumped and glared, immediately on-guard. "Roman, I swear if you try to stop me from doing my job I will beat you into a bloody **pulp**-"

"Woah, woah, calm down there Tempest," Roman said, raising an eyebrow. _ Tempest _ was his newest nickname for Virgil; after he'd seen the fans calling his distorted voice his _ tempest voice _ he couldn't resist. Virgil liked it a lot better than _ Stormcloud_, though he'd rather stab himself with Roman's sword than admit it.

Roman smiled, blindingly bright. "I'm here to _ help _ you."

Virgil arched an eyebrow. "How so? I'm the only one who can tame the nightmares or convince them to cross the border, and killing them is sort of my specialty. I think I've got this covered."

"You forget that I've been fighting these things for years," Roman said. "I can help. It's the least I can do, after ..." He gestured to encompass _ everything_, a guilty expression crossing his face.

The nightmare -a _ huge _ shadow, even by Virgil's standards- was covering the forest in darkness and advancing rapidly through the trees, bending the trunks, snapping the branches, and shaking the leaves to the ground. If Virgil wanted him gone he had to act _ now_.

"Okay, Princey," Virgil said, tapping his inch-long fingernails against his arm. "You wanna help? You can help. But I refuse to be held responsible for any harm -mentally or physically- that comes to you."

Roman smiled as he drew out his sword. "Deal."

They rushed forward to meet the darkness.


End file.
